Searching for Seasons
by Mochytea
Summary: Jeremie Belpois is a talented young wizard studying at the prestigious Kadic General Academy. When he discovers the reason for the recent, unnatural earthquakes and storms plaguing his nation, he brings his good friend and fighter Ulrich Stern with him to search for a mythical elven princess to restore peace and balance to their world. A DnD inspired AU.
1. A Faintly Glowing Candle

A/N: After starting a new session of DnD with some friends, I sketched the kiddos as DnD-inspired characters and got dragged into AU hell again. I'll be sporadically writing short chapters for this AU just for fun, so I hope y'all enjoy this silly little series as much as I enjoyed conceptualizing it. Let's see how far I get in writing this.

Chapter 1: A Faintly Glowing Candle

Jeremie sat quietly in the great Kadic library, poring over scrolls and bound books that slowly piled around him. The light began growing dimmer and dimmer as the book pile grew, and finally began to splutter as the fire in his lantern reached the end of its lifeline. With a soft, almost vindictive hiss, the fire touched the liquid in the shallow dip of the wax and disappeared. Jeremie scowled at the candle. Sighing, he murmured a few words under his breath, and an orb of harsh white light floated from his fingers to several inches above his table.

"Why don't you ever just do that instead of bothering with candles?"

Jeremie jumped at the sudden sound and turned around in his chair. A young man approached him, carrying a lantern whose light bounced up and down as he walked, throwing shadows in dizzying patterns against the wooden shelves. As he neared Jeremie's desk, he squinted against the bright magical light, and suffocated the fire his little lamp. Patience run short already by the dying candle and the seemingly futileness of his current studies, Jeremie snapped back.

"I don't know, Ulrich," Jeremie retorted. "Why don't you Speed your way everywhere you go instead of bothering with walking like the rest of us?"

The young man raised his hands in acquiensance. "Geez, Jeremie. Did I hit a nerve or something? What's wrong?"

Jeremie sighed again. "Sorry, Ulrich. I'm just… trying to figure out how to write this request to the Headmaster. If I could just get permission to go on this quest, it could be big for all of us. The earthquakes, the dried up streams, all of it."

"Is it about that old legend you haven't shut up about for weeks?" Ulrich asked, tone flat. Jeremie grimaced; he could hear the incredulity in his voice.

"It's not just a legend," he protested. "Look." Leaning over to one of the neat stacks of books on the floor, Jeremie grabbed a thick volume from the top of the pile.

Ulrich sat in one of the heavy wooden chairs beside him. He sneezed as musty air from the rapidly turning pages drifted towards his face.

"Aha! Here we are," Jeremie said. "_Earth's Paladins._ When the disasters started happening in our childhood, scholars had added a section to the original historical account to make connections between the story and the current events_._"

"_There is a legend from ages lost, of a noble elven family blessed by the Earth. They held great power, able to call up great mountains or vast oceans with a single song, and withheld the peace of their nation for many generations. One day, however, this family vanished from the pages of history. For a time, there were no repercussions from their disappearance, as if they merely hid from the world. But only at the time this passage was written did the tremors begin. Shuddering sighs from deep within the Earth, rivers running dry and seasons changing faster or slower every year since. This could only mean that something terrible has happened to the current members of this family that the world has been thrown out of balance."_

"So," Jeremie added, "it's highly likely when the family was first reported missing, they actually went into hiding since there was no effect on the Earth. But something must have happened for real within recent history, because all these changes aren't natural. Not if they still exist."

"Or existed at all," Ulrich replied. "I don't mean to undermine you or anything, Jer, but magic so powerful it can stop earthquakes? Like, for centuries? If anyone was capable of doing such a thing, it was whenever this world was created. Not now."

"This is important, Ulrich!" Jeremie snapped. He got up from his seat and began pacing the library floor. Taking his round spectacles off his nose, he rubbed at the lense with the corner of his tunic "There's something going on. All these disasters- homes falling into sinkholes, fish drying up with their streams, tremors shaking bricks out of buildings- they've never happened before! And they shouldn't!"

Ulrich threw his hands up again. "Alright, alright! Sit down already, you're making me dizzy."

With a huff, Jeremie sank back down in his chair.

"Then the only way you're going on this crazy quest is if I go with you."

"What? Ulrich, you barely believe in this stuff! And your family's in this city, I can't make you join me-"

"Jeremie. Do you really think Delmas is going to let you go by yourself? You'll get killed in like, three days, tops."

Jeremie rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Besides," Ulrich muttered, looking away towards the shadows of the bookshelves, "I don't think my family would miss me much if I left." Jeremie had no response for that.

"Well maybe I'll have a better chance at approval if I request a top warrior student to accompany me on this journey." Jeremie placed a gentle hand on the young man's shoulder. "Ulrich, if we succeed, if we find out what's happened to the royal elves and rescue them, somehow… We'll have fixed all the disasters, I'll be able to graduate early, and even your father will have your respect."

At that, Ulrich looked up, his eyes bright. He cracked a small smile. "Guess that's all sorted out then, isn't it."


	2. Memories

Chapter 2: Memories

Ulrich waited anxiously outside of Headmaster Delmas's main office. He'd been here many times, when he was younger and more notorious for getting into fights. Mostly over his size- he'd been one of the smaller students in the fighting class, and the teasing had been relentless when he started at Kadic General Academy. Ulrich was even scrappier as a child, and his attitude with both students and teachers landed him a reserved seat in the headmaster's office for several months. The Headmaster himself was a good man, always doing what he can to protect his students- especially when it came to Ulrich- but association left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't want to think about his previous visits.

Lost deep in reluctant nostalgia, Ulrich didn't notice the Headmaster's door creaking open slowly, and was startled out of his thoughts when Jeremie called out to him. He leapt to his feet.

"So?" Ulrich asked. "What did Delmas say?"

"He wants to talk to you first," Jeremie said. The fair-haired boy looked tired, dark circles under his eyes. Must have stayed up the rest of the night writing that report, Ulrich thought to himself. "Headmaster Delmas said he'll let me know afterwards."

Ulrich swallowed hard. "If I'm supposed to charm him, then this mission is doomed," he muttered.

"No, nothing like that," Jeremie assured him. "Although… no, I think he just wants to check in with you since you're a part of this journey."

Ulrich raised an eyebrow. Jeremie was fiddling with his glasses, but said nothing more.

"Well I guess I should head in then," he sighed.

"I'll wait out here," Jeremie said, taking the seat next to Ulrich's chair. "If all goes well, then we can start preparations as soon as you're done."

* * *

"Have a seat, Ulrich," Headmaster Delmas said gruffly. Keeping his eyes down, Ulrich made his way over to the hardwood chair in front of the great mahogany desk. The office was large and richly decorated. A rich, foreign looking rug covered the floor beneath the desk, and from the walls hung several frames. Some held prestigious scholarly awards that Ulrich didn't recognize- not that he'd know any- while others were paintings of him and his family. Ulrich recognized the dark haired young woman in one of the portraits, scowling sourly at the painter. _Ugh, Sissi_.

"Now, Jeremie requested you to accompany him on his journey to find the Earth's guardian family," Delmas began. The older man looked at him severely over his rectangular spectacles. "And based on your… history, I have every reason to deny him."

"That's not-" Ulrich protested.

"You're not making that decision difficult for me, boy," Delmas interrupted coldly. "Do you think young Belpois would ask for you if he knew?"

Ulrich stiffened. _He wouldn't speak to me again._

Delmas leaned back in his cushioned chair. "I do not wish to be your enemy, Ulrich Stern. You are a very talented student. But you have to understand that there are a few certain people that would have celebrated your expulsion from this academy. Only through the graces of your father-"

Ulrich clenched his fists in his lap. He didn't want to think about it. Especially when it came to his _father._

"- were you able to continue your studies here. And I often wondered if it was the right decision to make."

His knuckles began turning white and he forced himself to relax his hands.

"But." Delmas stood up from his chair and turned towards one of his paintings. Ulrich followed his gaze and saw a small group of young men smiling widely in the painting, including one that looked like a younger version of the Headmaster. At first he thought the older man was gazing wistfully at his portrayal in his prime, but Ulrich realized he was looking at the person next to him in the painting instead. Thick spectacles and a dense beard covered the other man's face, and was dressed in scholar's robes. Delmas sighed and turned back to Ulrich.

"I… have some personal interest in Jeremie's request," he said quietly. "The legend he is pursuing is something I once studied in my youth. I am eager to see the results of his efforts, and if increasing his chances of success means allowing you to join him, then I am willing to grant permission. Your skills are better realized in the field, after all."

Ulrich stared at the headmaster. He couldn't believe it was that easy.

"Del- Uh, Headmaster Delmas! I, um… thank you. Uh, sir," Ulrich stumbled. He paused. He remembered. "I'm, um. I never meant to, back then-"

Delmas held up a hand and Ulrich shut up. "Keep Jeremie safe. Make smart decisions. That's all I'm asking of you, Ulrich. Don't let me regret this decision."

"Yes, sir!" Ulrich said. He scrambled out of his chair, nearly tripping on a fraying corner of the rug, and slipped out the door.

* * *

Jean-Pierre Delmas could hear Ulrich and Jeremie walking away from his office, their excited chatter fading as the heavy oak door gently closed. He smiled. It had been a long time since he'd embarked on a great adventure like that. He looked back towards the painting of him and his colleagues, when they had been young.

Delmas pursed his lips and drummed his fingers against his desk. Had he been right to let those children run off like that? He supposed they weren't quite children anymore, though anyone under twenty years seemed that way at his age. But even if they were growing young men, eager for action and itching to see the world, this legend they were seeking would be dangerous if they succeeded.

Yet he'd granted them permission, as if by allowing those boys to pick up a quest he'd failed to complete would redeem him somehow. Delmas leaned back in his seat with closed eyes. Remembering. _Franz, you old fool, look at what we've started_.

Without warning, Delmas felt the edge of a long, cold blade pressed lightly against his neck, just underneath his greying beard. He stiffened; he had heard nothing. Sensed nothing.

"Did you really think we would forget?" A strange voice, altered by magic and worn by time, hissed into his ear. Delmas opened his mouth to speak but the knife edge just pressed harder into his skin. Blood dribbled down his neck in a thin line. The stranger _tsked_ at him. "You're going to do something for those boys. And for us. After all, you owe us."

After a brief pause, he placed a small object on his polished mahogany desk. It made a soft clicking sound as it touched the hard surface, and for a moment glowed a dull, pulsing red before the magic faded away. Delmas stared at it as the dying light revealed its shape, and he was filled with fear and dread. Remembering.


End file.
